Soul Abduction
by American Horror Fan
Summary: I have decided to write a fanfiction for Season 2 of my favorite TV show "American Horror Story." While most of the characters from that season (eg -Sister Jude, Sister Mary Eunice) are the same, I am adding a new set of characters. So far, this is only the first chapter. More will come later. Enjoy! :)
1. Chapter 1

2/27/13

SOUL ABDUCTION

Chapter 1 – THE CRIME

It is May of 1963. Reporters, photographers, armed guards, and the staff were gathered together on the steps of Briarcliff awaiting the arrival of the new prisoner. His name was Frank Stuart, aged 22. According to the news reports and the authorities, he had murdered his fiancée, Rachel McKinley, and burned her body in their fireplace. He claimed that he was innocent of the crime and that she was murdered by a ghost that haunted their mansion. Of course, that was ludicrous, so the judge ordered him to be held at the Briarcliff Insane Asylum for evaluation until his trial.

The people who knew the couple were shocked and deeply saddened when they heard the news. They described the couple as extremely happy and very much in love. They looked forward to their wedding, which was to take place in June. Every detail of their wedding was planned to perfection. Devout Catholics, they were going to have their wedding at the Holy Trinity cathedral, the large mammoth church that they have just started attending since they had moved to Massachusetts. For the reception, they would have it in the courtyard that they have just renovated behind their home.

"Gardening was one of the things that Rachel loved to do," her sister Claudia had said during an interview. "Getting her fingers in the dirt relaxed her so."

It was true. Ever since Rachel was little, she loved gardening. She used to help her mother in the garden and she liked the way that soil, moist or dry, would feel through her fingers. She also loved to watch as little sprouts grew into fruitful plants or gorgeous flowers. As soon as it was March, she and Frank immediately got to work in giving their once gloomy and deserted courtyard a makeover. When it was finished, people were amazed at its breathtaking beauty.

"That's where we plan to hold her memorial," her mother said tearfully. "We're going to call it Rachel's Garden. She was one of the most creative people I have ever known."

While gardening was Rachel's passion, she was a professional photographer by trade. Although many people commented that she should be _in front_ of the camera instead of behind it – _she was gorgeous!_ – taking pictures was something that she loved to do. She believed that beauty was only on the inside of people, and she wanted people to see the inside of her rather than outside. This was why she choose photography as her profession; it was her way of expressing how she felt about life, whether it was capturing precious moments between people or beautiful scenery. Someone had joked that she should be the photography of her own wedding, but she chose to have a colleague do it instead.

People who knew Frank described him as friendly and vivacious. He always had a ready smile for anyone who came his way. Like Rachel, he was also creative, but he had a different career. He was a children's author/illustrator and a graphic novelist. He loved to draw since he was a kid. He grew up reading Superman comic books and enjoyed playing superhero games with his brothers and neighborhood friends. He also had a serious side. He served as an altar boy at his church and his parents raised him to have love and compassion for other people, esp. those who are less fortunate and those who are viewed as outcasts in society. _Who knows,_ they used to tell him and his brothers. _They could be in that category themselves one day._ No one could ever have imagined that he would one day be accused of murdering his fiancée and end up in one of the most notorious insane asylums ever known in the country.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – THE ARRIVAL

AS THE GATES OPENED, a paddy wagon pulled into the entrance. Two men jumped out of the driver and passenger seats and walked to the back of the vehicle. They opened the back doors and two armed guards escorted the young man out. He was dressed in a county jail uniform and heavily shackled as he was being led up the steps to the building.

Frank Stuart was a good-looking young man. At 22, he still had a boyish look about him. He had a pale complexion, almost free of any blemishes. His wavy brown hair blew gently in the warm breeze of that month, and his electric blue eyes – which normally sparkled with joy and mischief – were now sullen and downcast. As a child, people often remarked about his beauty. They often mistook him for an angel. Throughout his young life, he had always been cheerful and carefree. Always quick to smile, he had a positive and optimistic outlook on life. He was the go-to guy if you had a problem or a worry, and he immediately set to work to make your problem disappear. Growing up, he was well-liked by many who knew him, though he did have his fair share of bullies. He had a small stature and he often got teased because of it. That did not mean that he took anybody's crap. He was quick-witted and had a ready comeback for any insult thrown at him. And a scrapper, he never backed down from a fight when he or someone was threatened.

Although he appeared calm on the surface, he was quaking on the inside. He had often heard about what went on in prisons, jails, and even mental institutions. Panic set in; he was totally unprepared for whatever came his way. He was definitely going to get beat up, no matter how tough he was and no matter how he would fight back. He didn't know what type of crazies that he would face.

The first thing that happened was that he was stripped of his clothing and thrown into the shower. The orderlies sprayed him with ice cold water. He screamed as the sensation shot through his nerves like ice picks piercing through his skin and up to his brain. Then the orderlies covered him with talcum powder, dressed him up in a hospital gown, and strapped him down to a bed.

"Are these restraints really necessary?" he asked.

"Shut up," replied one of the orderlies.

"Come on!" Frank pleaded. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not a threat to you –"

"I said, shut up!"

And Frank shut up.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Sister Jude

Frank faded in and out of sleep for what seemed like an eternity, but was actually for only a half hour. He just lay strapped to the bed not knowing what will happen next.

"Hello?" he called out. No answer. It was only him in the room. He did not know what to do.

Suddenly, he heard the door knob turn. He looked up to see someone enter the room. It was a nun. Frank breathed a sigh of relief and let his head fall back down on his pillow. Finally, someone was going to talk to him. Someone was going to let him know what was going on. Everything was going to be all right.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

The nun took a chair and sat next to his bed. She had a very grim face, a tall and imposing figure, and she seemed to be devoid of any sympathy. Any hope that Frank had felt slowly began to drain from his body. The nun began to speak.

"So," she began, "you must be the new patient, Frank Stuart." Her voice was very cold, flat, and with little emotion.

"Yes," he answered nervously.

"My name is Sister Jude, and you are in Briarcliff Manor," she went on. "Do you know why you are here?"

"Yeah. They think that I murdered my fiancée." He paused before going on. "But I swear I didn't do it. I would never do anything to hurt Rachel. Please, you've got to help me. You've got to believe that I'm innocent."

She scoffed at him. "You want me to believe that silly ghost story?"

"What?" Her words stung him.

"Yes, I know all about it, that story you told the police. How a ghost murdered your fiancée and burned her body in the fireplace. Well, I'm here to tell you that you are not going to fool me with that silly nonsense. Ghosts and monsters do not exist, except for in the minds of the deluded." Before he can protest, she continued, "And the only monsters that exist are the evil souls that reside in human beings. Now, I may not know the reason behind why you killed the woman that you supposedly loved, but I know this: Before you stand in front of a judge in a courtroom, here you will repent before the only judge that matters."

"But I didn't do anything. Look, you don't know anything about me. I don't even belong here." He struggled against the restraints. "Please, isn't there anyone that I can talk to? Anyone who can help me?"

Sister Jude rose from her chair. "There is only one person you can talk to, and that is the God Almighty Himself. Maybe He can help you see the error of your ways." She left.

Frank lay in his bed. His eyes were welled with tears and they feel freely from his face and onto his pillow. He felt so helpless and alone.


End file.
